


Expert Assistance

by awomanalone



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Robbery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awomanalone/pseuds/awomanalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne calls in reinforcements when Aunt Prudence ruins her morning toilette. Jack has a rather strange case of robbery to deal with.</p>
<p>Sequel to Upper Hand</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is the sequel to my fic 'Upper Hand'. As well as Jack and Phryne, everyone's favourite interrupting Aunt, Prudence Stanley, will play an important role in this story, as will Arthur, who will appear later. Shakespeare quotes will also abound later in the story- as Jack said to Hugh
> 
> "If you ever need to make some kind of romantic declaration...you can't go past Shakespeare"
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this. Please let me know what you think, I love reading all of your comments
> 
> Laura

The creak of the door woke Phryne from her slumber. She opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the light that was now streaming into the room. Stretching her arms, she attempted to achieve a sitting position in the overly plump bed. The thick rose patterned quilts constricted her movement, so she settled for adjusting the pillows and shuffling upwards so that she could survey the bearer of the noise.

A maid was placing her dress on the silk screen in the corner of the room. Phryne didn’t recognise her, but given Aunt Prudence’s proclivity for changing her maids as often as she changed her hat, it wasn’t particularly surprising. Phryne could never be entirely sure whether Aunt P tired of them or whether it was in fact her brusque nature that led them to jump ship, although she rather favoured the latter. She loved the old bat, she really did, and she knew that her Aunt always had the best of intentions, but sometimes even she found it hard to stomach some of Prudence Stanley’s more acidic comments. 

The maid deposited the two boxes, which Phryne knew contained a matching hat and pair of shoes, on the dresser. She lingered there a second longer, before starting to make her retreat from the room.

“Good morning,” Phryne exclaimed, and had to stifle a laugh as the young woman jumped out of her wits. She slowly turned to face the bed, her expression one of shock.

“Good m-morning, Miss,” she murmured, stumbling over her words. Phryne took a second to take stock of the girl, committing the new face to memory. Despite the very quick turnover of servants at the Stanley house, Phryne liked to be able to know each one by name. It felt wrong to treat them as nameless, faceless helpers. She was young, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, with blonde hair pinned up beneath her maid’s cap. Her face was pretty despite a ruddy complexion, though it wasn’t helped at all by a deep blush that rose from her neck throughout her entire face. Phryne could make out the sheen of sweat on her brow and cheeks and noticed her hopping from foot to foot as she stood in front of her.

She realised why the girl was so nervous after casting her eyes downwards. Beneath her black uniform, the beginning of a slight bulge was showing low on her abdomen. Her Aunt was going up in her estimations every day. First Mary and the baby, now this girl- Prudence Stanley might be stern and sharp, but she was also somewhat of a guardian angel. 

“Call me Phryne, please. And you are?”

“Eliza. Eliza Dunworthy.”

Phryne raised the corners of her mouth in a reassuring smile, hoping to calm the girl’s nerves.

“Pleased to meet you, Eliza. How long have you been working for my Aunt?”

Eliza paused before replying, and Phryne could see her relaxing somewhat. She still bounced anxiously from foot to foot, but she could see the ghost of smile on the girl’s face.

“About a month now, Miss Phryne.”

“That’s good, Eliza. Thank you for bringing up my outfit for the gala. I’ll just change and then be down for breakfast, if you would tell my Aunt.”

“Of course, Miss Phryne,” Eliza replied, relief evident in her voice. She gave a brief curtsey and exited the room quickly, much to Phryne’s amusement. She seemed a sweet girl, and she was glad her Aunt was looking out for her.

Stretching out her arms once more, she considered getting up. The bed once again fought to keep her, and she didn’t put up much of a fight, settling back into the covers. Breakfast could wait. At the thought of breakfast, her mind shot back to Jack. She recalled how nice it had been to breakfast with him, the morning after their evening in her parlour. He had come into her parlour, his hair still mussed from sleep, and Phryne had been momentarily shocked by the wave of lust that had travelled through her. It seemed all she could think about was the glorious view she had had of his naked body. She had tried to calm herself as he took a seat at the table with her, starting up a light chatter that had lasted all through their meal. Yes, breakfasting with Jack had been very nice indeed, and she hoped to repeat it more often. She closed her eyes and thought of him, letting her mind recall every detail of his glorious body as she settled back into a light slumber. 

*

Jack Robinson sat at his desk, a mountain of paperwork in front of him, absolutely flummoxed. He picked up the top sheet and forced himself to start reading again, but as he found himself repeating the same line five times, he threw it back down again and sunk his head into his hands. Why was she all he could think about?

He hadn’t been as brave as he had determined to be that night. A brave man would have admitted his feelings to her the next day, be damned the consequences, and been in her bed by nightfall. He consoled himself with the vague excuse that it wasn’t his fault, that the time just hadn’t been right. A case had fallen right into both their laps the morning after his drunken escapades, and it had taken the last week to resolve. 

Then again, he could have taken the plunge at any one of their debriefing nightcaps over the past week, which had, rather happily, become a nightly occurrence. Once again, he had made excuses to himself- talk of murder weapons and entry wounds and coroners didn’t exactly go hand in hand with romance. But the niggling voice at the back of his head kept telling him that it was murder that had been instrumental in bringing them together in the first place, and he was just being a coward.

They had put together the final details of the case the previous morning, arrested the culprits and then sat together devouring a picnic hamper in his office. It had actually been the perfect morning, murderers aside, and for the first time in the week that had passed, Jack had felt brave enough to attempt to make his move. 

_“That was delicious, Miss Fisher,” he told her, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “My compliments to Mr Butler.”_

_Phryne chuckled lightly, her eyes intent on his face. He was sure he wasn’t imagining the way her eyes darted down to his lips as he removed the napkin._

_“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Jack. You certainly made quick work of that pie. It’s a shame you had a fork this time though.”_

_Jack gulped, his mind making great jolts; first, back to the that night in her cupboard, then to her boudoir, and finally coming to a stop on what he had done outside her boudoir just a week ago. As he settled back in the present he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He cleared his throat noisily, trying to buy time before he had to attempt a reply._

_“Decidedly less messy, though.”_

_“I certainly enjoyed seeing you get messy, Inspector. It was a rather...delectable...sight.”_

_A fit of coughing hit him, and he didn’t have time to react as Phryne stood and walked towards him, coming to a stop close to his side and patting him on the back. He finally managed to regain his composure, taking a sip of tea. Phryne was still in close proximity, rubbing circles into his back. The feeling was exquisite. She finally stopped, dropping her hand but remaining close to him, perching in her usual spot on the side of his desk._

_“Are you okay, Jack?” she asked him, and he was hit by the amount of genuine concern in her voice and her face._

_“Perfectly well, thank you, Phryne.”_

_She beamed at him, and he almost forgot to breathe. This was his chance. He had to take it now._

_“Now that the case is all sown up, would you....would you care to have dinner...with me... tonight, Phryne?”_

_She paused before replying, and he felt a wave of worry hit him. “In a heartbeat, Jack,” she began, her smile wide, “but I’m afraid I can’t tonight. Aunt Prudence has requested my help with her charity gala tomorrow. I’m spending the night at her house tonight, unfortunately. I have to go right now I’m afraid.”_

_Jack’s heart dropped. He hoped this wasn’t just some elaborate lie to cover up for a lack of interest in dining with him. If she didn’t want to, if she had plans with another man, surely she would just tell him that outright, though, wouldn’t she?_

_“I hope you have a good weekend, Phryne,” he told her, schooling his features to hide his disappointment, “I’ll see you at our next murder investigation.”_

_Phryne stood and collected the picnic basket, heading for the door of his office. She stopped, just inside the threshold, and turned back to him. “Jack?”_

_“Yes, Miss Fisher.”_

_“Don’t wait until our next murder investigation,” Phryne told him, and he raised his brows at her quizzically, not quite understanding. “To see me, I mean.”_

_“When should I see you then, Miss Fisher?”_

_“Sunday evening, if you’re free. You could come round for cocktails...if you wanted to, and perhaps some food...only if you’re free.” He was taken aback at how nervously her suggestion had come out. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who was feeling decidedly less than brave when it came to furthering their relationship._

_“I’d be delighted, Miss Fisher. See you on Sunday,” he told her with a grin._

_“See you Sunday, Jack.”_

Her invitation had given him hope, hope that she was in fact feeling somewhat the same way he did. But he was still peppered with doubts, and most of them centred on a particular fact he had come across the morning he woke up in her guest room. 

Realising he was naked in bed in her guest room had been a shocking discovery to wake up to. His head had still been slightly fuzzy, giving him only vague recollections and stray pieces of the puzzle of what had happened the night before. Mr Butler had entered announcing a neatly pressed suit, and he realised that the man must have been in the room earlier to collect his crumpled clothes. Thank goodness for the thick quilt that had been covering him. He had smiled his thanks and Mr Butler had left the room. Jack had risen, spying the silk pyjamas that he vaguely remembered wearing the night before lying on a chair in the corner. He had located his undergarments and then dressed quickly in his suit, heading downstairs. Phryne had been already sat in her dining room. He had been hoping to sneak out without meeting her again that morning, but the breakfast and delightful conversation that had followed had been an enjoyable surprise which he was very desirous to repeat. 

It had been when he remembered leaving his watch in the guest room that he had become privy to a fact that left him unsure of its meaning. He had disturbed Miss Williams in the guest room as she had been seeing to the bed. She was almost finished, and he noticed with confusion that the quilt that had covered his naked body was now folded up and that another quilt was spread out beneath it. His confusion came from the fact that he recognised the quilt beneath as being the one on the bed when he entered the night before. Just where had that extra blanket come from?

He had subtly probed Miss Williams for information.

_“Good morning, Miss Williams. That top quilt was very much appreciated last night, given the cold weather. It doesn’t usually reside on this bed?”_

_“No Inspector. I don’t know how...It’s one of Miss...” her cheeks began to colour and she stumbled of her words._

_“Is something the matter, Miss Williams?”_

_“N-no. No. I was just going to say it’s one of Miss Phryne’s favourite quilts. She asked me to place it here for you before I left for my mother’s yesterday.”_

Miss Williams had left the room after her statement and he had marvelled at the effect Phryne had had on her- he had certainly been right when he had remarked to Hugh that Dot had become a ‘modern woman’ because she was living with one. When they had first met her, she had been shy and mousy, and now she had lied to his face without stumbling. Because he knew, without a shadow of doubt, that the quilt which had covered him was not there when he entered the room that night.

He had had a week to ponder the significance of this and he was constantly drawn back to one thought- Phryne. Miss Williams had said that the quilt was one of Phryne’s favourites, that she had requested that he have it. He knew that was a lie, but he was sure there was a glimmer of truth somewhere in there. Which meant that it had been Phryne who had placed it over him. Phryne Fisher had snuck into his room and seen him naked, just as he had seen her earlier that night. At least she hadn’t known that she was the reason he had removed his clothes. He was grateful she had placed the quilt over him; having Mr Butler, or worse Miss Williams, enter while he was sleeping and find him like that would have been mortifying. 

However, a part of him was also vaguely disappointed and full of doubt. Phryne had seen him naked and her first thought had been to run for a quilt to cover him up. He knew his body was still in shape; long hours exercising had kept him fit and strong. Perhaps he wasn’t as...as well endowed...oh god, Phryne had had many men; perhaps he just didn’t live up to the best of them. He shuddered at the thought that Phryne had found him lacking compared to her other lovers. 

Jack sighed loudly. He was beyond help. He was gone, so far gone, completely enthralled by a goddess with a shining black bob and a wickedly devious smile. 

*

Phryne resurfaced an hour later, forcing herself to finally get up and face the day before her. A smile still played on her lips as she thought of Jack. 

She glanced at the garment bag hanging on the screen in the corner. Perhaps the dress had miraculously morphed into something passable. She undid the zipper a little way, seeing once again the shapeless, plain form inside. No, it hadn’t got any better in the week since she had last seen it. She cursed Aunt P for not acceding to the one request she had made; to let her take the dress away and have Dot make some alterations. Now she was forced to put on that monstrosity for the public this afternoon.

Zipping it back up and out of her sight, Phryne dressed in the clothes she had brought with her for the mornings preparations, before taking a seat at the vanity. She reached out for the bag that contained her make- up, perplexed when all she came across was thin air. She looked down at the wooden table, adorned with lace coverings. All that now sat upon it were Aunt P’s decorative rose enamelled brush and mirror, and a bottle of perfume. Where were her things? 

She knew she had unpacked them the previous night and laid them out on the vanity; she distinctly remembered doing it. Yet they were nowhere to be seen. She checked the rest of the room and continued to come up empty. With a sigh of annoyance, she returned to the vanity and made use of the comb and perfume, attempting to make herself presentable. She needed to get down those stairs right now and find out what was going on.

Aunt Prudence was sat at the breakfast table as she entered.

“Good morning, dear,” she called out, smiling as Phryne took a seat at the other end of the table. 

Phryne found herself slightly perturbed by how wide her Aunt’s smile had grown. She tried to put the thought out of her mind as she began to munch on the toast that had been laid out before her. Aunt P was up to something, Phryne was positive of that.

She looked up as a maid began to pour tea into her cup, ready with a smile of thanks.

“Thank you, Eliza,” Phryne told the girl, recognising her as the maid from that morning. She began to take a sip of tea as the girl moved away from her to stand at the side of the table, and Phryne had to stop herself from choking. No, she couldn’t have imagined it, could she? If she had, her mind was most certainly playing the strangest tricks on her. A disappearing bump on Aunt P’s maid, a vanishing make-up bag...just what did her mind have in store for her next? She was sure she was missing something, that she hadn’t connected the dots properly.

“You’re looking remarkably fresh faced this morning, dear. So much more vibrant and younger looking,” Aunt P commented, and all the pieces suddenly fell into place in her mind. Why, the conniving old bat! Phryne quickly turned her head to fix her gaze on Eliza, certain that she would be the weak link in this scheme, but the girl had vanished. She had to find her.

Quickly finishing her toast, Phryne rose from her chair. “I just have to go freshen up before we start on those preparations, Aunt Prudence. I’ll be back in a moment.” She was halfway out of the room when Aunt P’s voice bellowed out behind her.

“No time for that, Phryne. We must get to work immediately.”

Phryne grimaced. This was going to be harder than she thought. 

Three hours later, Phryne was about ready to commit murder. The nearest available blunt object would do, she wasn’t at all picky. 

She had very soon deciphered her Aunt’s plan. The woman had peppered every sentence over the last few hours with telling comments about various eligible bachelors who would be attending the event that afternoon. It was becoming very obvious that she wanted to marry Phryne off this afternoon, and that to do that she wished her to be a little less brash and extravagant. As there was no way she could tame her actions, she had settled for altering her looks. 

Phryne had to give the woman credit for such a cunning plan. But it left her at a complete disadvantage. She couldn’t ring her house for help; Dot was spending the day with Hugh and she didn’t want to trouble Mr Butler on his day off. A delicious thought entered her mind and she found herself smiling brightly. Well, she had been considering murder, who else could she call?

Phryne was half way out of the room before Aunt Prudence even looked up. “Sorry, Aunt P, just have to telephone Jack about a case we’re working on. I won’t be long.” She was still smiling as she picked up the receiver and dialled.

“City South Police,” an unfamiliar voice answered.

“Hello, this is Phryne Fisher. I was hoping to speak with Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, if he’s free.”

“One moment please, Miss Fisher.” She heard the receiver being placed down and footsteps scuttle away. Hopefully Jack was free.

She breathed a sigh of contentment as his familiar voice travelled down the line to her. “Hello, Miss Fisher. Just what can I do for you?”

Lots of things, she thought to herself. Preferably in my boudoir. 

“Jack, darling,” she began, and had to stifle a laugh as she heard a crash and the line went muffled. Perhaps her term of endearment had been a little too much. “Are you free?”

“Sorry, Miss Fisher, there was a slight...disturbance at this end,” he rumbled, “I’m afraid I missed what you said.”

“I was enquiring as to whether you were free. I’m in need of a little help,” she told him, still grinning. 

“I thought you were at your Aunt’s?”

“I am, Jack. And I’m currently attempting to solve a case of robbery and prevent a murder from taking place, but I find myself a little...incapacitated. I’m very much in need of your expert assistance, Inspector.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack get to the bottom of the robbery. Jack makes a discovery that gives him a fair amount of confidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to post Chapter 2. I got slightly side tracked by the other fics I posted, but I promise I'm going to be seeing this one through to the end. There is still so much fun to come with this story.
> 
> I hope you all like it. Let me know what you think!

As Jack walked up the pathway to the front door of Prudence Stanley’s residence, he was fairly sure he was in for trouble. Phryne had sounded so strange during her telephone call, but he couldn’t put his finger on just what it was. He was fairly certain she couldn’t be in too much danger, not at her Aunt’s house. 

He stopped in his tracks, chuckling lightly to himself. No, he thought again, knowing Phryne she could find trouble anywhere. 

Then again, if she wasn’t in danger, then she was most probably cooking up some sort of scheme that, for reasons yet unknown, she needed him to be complicit in. He had been under strict instructions not to park the police car in sight of the house. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be a pawn in whatever game she was playing, and cursed himself for dropping the receiver upon hearing her call him darling. He had felt so flustered by that one small word from Phryne’s lips. _Darling._ He really was too far gone. 

Jack made his way to the door, raising his hand to knock. Before his fingers reached the wood, the door opened and there in front of him was the object of all his desires and worries. And she looked so beautiful he was momentarily struck for breath. 

There was something different about Phryne, but his brain was so caught up in appreciating her he was at a loss as to what it was. 

“Jack!” she beamed at him. “I watched you arrive. You looked very deep in thought for a moment there, something on your mind, Inspector?” 

“Nothing at all, Miss Fisher.” 

“C’mon Jack, there are too many furrows in that gorgeous brow of yours for it to be nothing. Share,” she told him, her eyes gleaming wickedly. 

“I don’t need to- I’m sure you’ll drag it out of me eventually,” he replied. “Why am I here, Miss Fisher? You mentioned something about murder, are you in danger?” 

“Only in danger of committing murder myself. Or being sold off to the wealthiest bidder like a piece of cattle. But I’m sure that neither will happen now you’re here, Jack.” His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth opened to reply, but she placed a hand up to stop him. 

“I can’t talk longer, Jack, much as I’d like to. I need you to do me a favour. Go around the back to the servant’s entrance and ask to speak with a Miss Eliza Dunworthy. Don’t let Aunt P catch you here- she’ll have a fit. Once you’ve spoken to her, bring her to my room. In say, about twenty minutes time. Must dash, Jack. See you soon.” 

She reached out for his hand, taking his fingers in hers with a gentle squeeze, before pressing her lips fleetingly to his cheek. His whole body grew warm at her touch, and he felt the loss of it keenly as she released him with a soft smile, stepping back through the door and shutting it. He marvelled at this new intimacy between them. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to finally make his move after all. 

* 

Phryne reclined on the chaise in the corner of her room, thankful for some peace at last. Aunt P certainly hadn’t been happy with Jack’s intrusion into their morning, but her seemingly swift dispatch of the Detective Inspector had managed to please her somewhat. She was fairly certain Aunt Prudence would have a fit if she knew Jack was still in the house, and was at that very moment most likely on his way to her bedroom, maid in tow. 

There was a soft knock at the door and Phryne jumped up, anxious to let them in before they were caught out. She ushered them inside before shutting the door, and turning to walk back towards her visitors. 

She let her fingers brush deliberately along Jack’s arm as she passed him, delighting in the way he briefly shivered at her touch. His eyes flickered over to meet hers and she smiled warmly at him, letting her fingers come to rest lightly around his hand, her thumb tracing back and forth over his palm. His breath hitched and Phryne removed her hand, leaving his side to walk over to Eliza. 

Phryne surveyed the girl, who was at the moment stood with her eyes fixed to the floor, her face red with tears. She placed a reassuring hand on Eliza’s shoulder, and waited while the girl breathed in and out to calm herself before meeting her gaze. 

“Eliza, is there something you wanted to tell me?” Phryne began, slowly, so as not to scare her even more. 

“Yes, Miss...Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss...I never... I wouldn’t...” Eliza blabbered, her eyes welling up with tears once more. She started to motion to Jack, but as she drew her eyes upon him she saw he had already read her mind. He seemed to be able to do that with alarming alacrity these days, and it surprised her that the thought wasn’t at all scary. She took the proffered handkerchief from him with a smile of thanks and handed it to Eliza. 

“I know, Eliza. My Aunt can be a very,” Phryne paused, wanting to choose her words carefully, “forceful, when she puts her mind to it. I know it’s not your fault.” 

“N-no, no, it wasn’t...Mrs Stanley...She had.” 

“You don’t have to protect her Eliza. I promise you, I won’t tell her you’ve said a word.” 

Eliza looked torn, tears welling up anew. She dabbed away at them with the handkerchief before giving a small clear of her throat, clenching her fists at her sides. 

“I’m so sorry, Miss Phryne. I didn’t have a choice. Your Aunt asked me to take your cosmetic bag when I brought in your dress this morning, and then you woke up and were so nice to me, I felt so guilty but I couldn’t do anything. I’ve not been working here long...I couldn’t.” 

“I understand, Eliza,” Phryne told her, and saw how her words visibly calmed the girl, “Where is my bag now?” 

“Mrs Stanley has it. I’m so ashamed of myself! If I’d have known it would lead to this, and that you’d get the police...” Eliza trailed off, looking somewhat cautiously at Jack. 

“Don’t worry, Eliza. Jack- Inspector Robinson, here- is a very close friend, and I can assure you, he can be incredibly discreet.” 

“You’re in no trouble, Miss Dunworthy,” Jack announced, and Phryne found herself trying to convey how much gratitude she suddenly felt at having him there with a single look. He returned her gaze with a smile of his own, the corner of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly to anyone but her, his eyes shining brightly. He knew, in fact she was sure he knew far too many things, and it didn’t worry her in the slightest. 

“Although,” he continued, “I believe there is something else you wished to share with Miss Fisher?” 

Phryne settled her gaze back on Eliza, realising the girl was suddenly jittery again. “Whatever you have to tell me, I won’t be angry, Eliza.” 

“When I took your bag, I...well, I looked inside. I’ve never really had the chance to see any of it and I was just so curious. I saw the lipstick and well...I’m so sorry Miss.” Eliza reached into the front pocket of her apron, removing the familiar metal tube and placing it in Phryne’s hand. “I didn’t use it.” 

“Thank you, Eliza,” she smiled gratefully at her, “And I promise that when today is over I will send you some of this to use.” 

Eliza blushed, and began hopping embarrassedly from foot to foot again. 

“You can go, if you like,” she told her, and Eliza all but ran out the door. Phryne chuckled, placing the lipstick on the vanity before walking over to stand at Jack’s side as they watched Eliza go. Once the door was closed, she rounded on him, standing barely inches away from his body. 

“You really are an asset, Jack,” she told him, her fingers reaching out to play with his tie, “I don’t know what I’d have done without you this morning.” 

He regarded her with a wry smile. “I’m sure you’d have managed perfectly well, Miss Fisher.” 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not glad to have you around.” 

Phryne released his tie, skipping over the garment back where it hung on the screen. “Now, if you could just aid me in another problem... that would be even more greatly appreciated.” 

“What appears to be the problem?” Jack rumbled, his voice hitting Phryne like a steam train. They were all alone, in a bedroom...perhaps she could get him to stretch to _one gaudy afternoon_ , this time? Although since she had first proposed that offer to him, she had come to the startling conclusion that one night certainly wouldn’t be enough to sate the desire she felt for him. Far from it. 

“I’ll show you,” she answered, pulling down the zipper and removing the dress from the bag. Giving him a smile of reassurance, she slipped behind the screen, beginning to remove her clothes. Her body began to feel hot all over as she stripped to her undergarments, consciously that Jack was merely metres away. She pulled on Aunt P’s monstrosity and tried to compose herself. 

Stepping out from behind the screen, she watched Jack’s eyes as he gazed over her. She expectedly to see his face fall, to see him visibly disgusted with her appearance, but all she found in his eyes was desire. Desire so strong it was leaving her suddenly tongue tied. 

She walked to the full length mirror, surveying herself in the glass. The salmon pink shift dress had no shape whatsoever, hanging limply down her body down to her knees. The neckline was rounded but high, the sleeves capped but all too frilly. The outer layer of the dress was slightly sheer, but the thick material of the inside layer shared not a glimpse of her body below. All in all, it was entirely the sort of outfit that would make her look delicate and demure, just the way her Aunt wanted her when she introduced her to the male suitors that afternoon. 

She turned to face him. “You wouldn’t happen to have any string, or pins, in those deep pockets of yours, would you Jack?” 

Jack looked suddenly sheepish. “I can’t help you on the string, but as for the pin...” he pulled one side of his jacket away from his body, removing a silver object from the lining. 

He walked towards her, dropping the pin in her hand, before making to move away from her again. She took hold of his wrist, stalling him. 

“And why do you look so uncomfortable right now, Jack? Something I should know about this pin, perhaps?” 

His gaze drifted upwards from their joined hands to meet her eyes. “It was my mother’s advice. She told me to never be without one.” 

“That doesn’t explain...” Phryne began, but Jack cut her off. 

“It was after a particularly embarrassing incident where I came off my bike...and split my trousers in the most unfortunate of places.” 

His cheeks were adorably beginning to colour pink and Phryne bit her lip. An image of a young Jack flushing beetroot as he exposed himself to world entered her mind, and she was suddenly plagued by other thoughts of him, so young, of what he would have been like. 

She stroked the skin of his wrist a final time before leaving him, heading off in the direction of her case. “Thank you, Jack. I’m sure I had some ribbon on one of the dresses packed in here that I could put to use. And knowing Dot, she’s bound to have included some of my pins too.” Finding what she needed, Phryne closed the case and walked back towards the full length mirror, setting to work. She felt the warmth of Jack’s gaze over her back and smiled to herself. 

When she had finished, she turned back to Jack. “What do you think?” 

His mouth turned up in a wickedly delicious grin as he surveyed the lower half of her body. She had used the ribbon and Jack’s pin to hitch the dress up at the waist, letting the fabric fall back over the top to hide the implements, and effectively shortening the dress by a fair few inches. 

“I think I won’t have to whittle down the suspects in your murder.” 

Phryne grinned at him before continuing her attentions to the upper portion of the dress. 

What about this?" she purred over her shoulder. She turned back to the mirror, watching Jack's eyes darken as he surveyed the reflection of her body. She had pulled the fabric of her dress to one side, letting it slip down her arm to reveal one shoulder to his gaze. There was something strangely erotic about watching him watch her in the glass. He took a step toward her back, and every sensation in her body was heightened as his breath blew over the nape of her neck. He leaned down, his lips touching delicately at her shoulder, and then the pulse point of her neck. She shivered and he chuckled against her skin, sending vibrations throughout her entire body. 

"I think, Miss Fisher," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear, "that she'd end up burying you somewhere I'll never find your body." He delicately placed the sleeve back over her shoulder, covering her back up. "And we certainly wouldn't want that, would we?" 

*

Jack stepped backwards, putting some distance between them yet again, watching her in the mirror as she pulled the neckline of the gown into a low v with the help of a sparkling pin, the fabric pulling taut in gentle ripples that drew his eyes to her chest. She caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled deviously at him as she slipped a hand deviously into the neckline, readjusting her cleavage beneath the dress. 

He was beginning to feel hot all over. He squeezed his fists tightly and tried to focus on the matter at hand. Jack had a question for her, one that he needed to formulate right this second. He had felt her body responding to his touch just then, which obviously meant that he hadn’t imagined the effect he had had on her last week. But still doubts peppered him, and he was determined to try to vanquish them. 

As Phryne walked over to the vanity and sat down to apply her lipstick, he took his chance. 

“Why did you call me darling, earlier?” 

Phryne didn’t turn around, once again using the mirror to seek out his eyes. “The word just slipped off my tongue, Jack. I’m sorry if it discomfited you, but I can assure you, the sentiment was- is- very keenly felt.” 

“Phryne...” he rasped, his mind suddenly fogging over and leaving him at a loss as to what to say next. 

“I know you think you’re not worthy, Jack Robinson,” Phryne suddenly piped up, and he watched with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation as she recapped her lipstick, standing up to begin a slow, steady walk towards him. “And you can’t begin to fathom why you would ever have an effect on me. Or that I would return your affections.” 

She was advancing on him now, looking for all the world like a lion seeking out its prey. Jack gulped. “And while I don’t want to rush you, I feel I must inform you that I’m not prepared to wait all that much longer to feel you in my arms again.” She reached him, coming to a stop so close he could feel her breath on his face as she spoke. “So I feel I need to shock you into action, and I apologise if what I’m about to say makes you uncomfortable.” 

“I visited you in your room that night, Jack, after you were asleep.” 

“I know. You placed a blanket over me. Thank you. And I’m so very sorry, that you had to see me in such a state. It was despicable of me.” 

Phryne reached out to cup his cheek with the palm of her hand. “Is that what’s worrying you Jack? That I found the sight of your naked body ugly, that I found you lacking in some way?” 

Jack closed his eyes at her words and her touch, nodding his head almost imperceptibly. 

Phryne caressed his skin with her hand. “Oh my poor darling Jack, you really have no clue, do you? Your body was a glorious sight to behold, and I’m looking forward to being able to appreciate it again. A lot more thoroughly this time; with my eyes, my hands, my mouth, with every single part of me.” 

Jack’s eyes fluttered upon at her touch and her words, and he found himself being caught by the intensity of her gaze. 

“What I was going to tell you, Jack, was that I visited you twice that night. The first time I went, I was rather hoping you would be awake. But when I found you asleep, bared to the waist, I must admit I was terribly overcome. So I returned to my boudoir, removed my robe and began to touch myself, to bring myself unimaginable pleasure imagining that it was your fingers touching me instead of mine.” 

Jack’s breath hitched in his throat. He felt himself growing hard at her words and desperately fought to calm himself while his brain worked to join all the dots from that night. He had all the information, all the pieces of the puzzle, and found the image painted before him too incredible for words. She wanted him. And he had it within his power to set them off on a course that led to infinite pleasure for both of them. All that remained to be decided was when, because Jack knew that for the first time, he held all the cards, and it was solely down to him. 

Phryne let out a small cough, and he followed her gaze to look down at the growing tent in his trousers. 

"You know, Jack, there is a perfectly good bed mere metres from where we are standing." 

She was grinning wickedly at him, and Jack knew that he only had so much self restraint left in him to resist her. He had to play her at her own game, or else he really would be bedding her right there, in her Aunt’s house. 

"I know. But I don't want you to be under any misapprehensions, Phryne," he began, pulling her suddenly against his body and pressing his lips to her ear. "When I do something, I do it properly. I give it my utmost attention and don't stop until I've made quite sure that every last detail has been thoroughly seen to. There are no half measures.” 

"I'm very eager for you to do me then, Jack." 

He chuckled against her ear and she shivered. He drew his hands around her body to support her, realising how good, how right, it felt to have her in his arms again. He waited a long moment before releasing her. He watched as she walked back to survey her appearance in the full length mirror once more, before heading to the vanity to collect her lipstick and a small clutch bag. She returned to his side and placed her hand through the crook of his elbow. 

He peered down at her, confused. "I need to get back to work, Miss Fisher." 

"And I need an escort to this ghastly fundraiser. It's Saturday, Jack, surely you need to have some time off." 

"I’m sure you’ve got no shortage of men just waiting to have you on their arm,” he told her, cursing inwardly as he was suddenly plagued by thoughts of some other man holding her to his side, laughing with her, receiving that beautiful smile of hers that often felt like it was reserved especially for him. 

Phryne looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "I don’t just want an escort Jack. _I want you_." 

He found himself powerless to refuse. 

Phryne helped him out of his overcoat and began brushing down the lapels of his jacket, while he futilely protested that he wasn't dressed for a charity function. Together, they made their way downstairs, stopping at the telephone so Jack could phone the station to ascertain whether there were any pressing matters that needed his attention. He told the Constable where he could be reached before hanging up, then smiled as he felt Phryne place her arm through his again, bringing her hand up to squeeze his bicep playfully. 

As they made their way outside, Jack very soon became aware that they had been sprung. He watched apprehensively as Prudence Stanley marched over to where they stood. 

“Phryne, my dear girl, what on earth have you been doing?” she bellowed at her niece, before drawing her gaze over to him. “And Inspector, I thought you had left?” 

“Jack’s been helping me with a case, Aunt Prudence. So I invited him to be my guest this afternoon. I hope there’s no problem,” Phryne replied, and Jack marvelled at her cool and composed she sounded even as the older woman’s eyes were shooting fiery daggers her way. He watched as Prudence Stanley’s eyes dropped lower, her gaze growing even more murderous as she surveyed Phryne’s outfit. 

“Just what have you done to that dress? You look utterly scandalous, Phryne.” 

“Oh, a few small alterations. I think it suits me a lot better.” 

He heard the loud, exasperated humph that came in reply, before suddenly finding himself fixed with a pair of scarily penetrating eyes. 

"Well, at least with you here Inspector, you can keep my niece in check." 

Jack looked down at Phryne, smiling as he saw her nestled against him. 

"I'm afraid I can't do that Mrs Stanley. Your niece is her own woman." 

He kept his eyes on Phryne as he felt the disapproving glance of Prudence Stanley well and truly bore into him. She let out a loud sigh. 

"Just please refrain from doing anything licentious." 

Before Phryne could reply, Jack found his mouth opening of its own accord. "We won’t make any promises, Mrs Stanley." The words were out before his brain engaged, and a gasp of shock cut through the air. 

He watched as Prudence Stanley stood dumbfounded, staring at him without uttering a word. He knew he only had a few seconds at best to make his retreat before she found her voice, and began to steer Phryne in the direction of the party. 

Phryne was laughing, loudly, the reverberations in her body easily felt from her position against him. When they were at a safe distance she drew them to a stop, grinning mischievously at him. 

"That was my line Jack!" 

"I couldn’t help but jump in," he told her. Truthfully, he had no clue why he had said it, except for the fact that he suddenly felt brimming with confidence. 

"You know you’ve just increased the likelihood of there being two bodies by the end of today. She’s going to flay you alive, Jack, and I won’t be able to protect you if I’m lying dead beside you." 

He sighed, knowing Phryne was right. Just what had he let himself in for? 

_"The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch, Which hurts and is desired,"_ he quoted, offering her his arm once more. "Shall we?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack's somewhat dirty Shakespeare quote is from Anthony and Cleopatra, which in the show seems to be a particular favourite of his.


End file.
